Underneath, the everlasting arms

So, I don’t think I played sharp or flat at the memorial service yesterday. Managed the descant to The Lord’s My Shepherd, once, while the flute soared away with it the other two times. While it’s quite fun to play the tune, the cello is particularly suited for providing that low, sonorous richness which to me offers notes of comfort. 

Underneath are the everlasting arms. Perhaps it’s that, a sense that as low as we can go, God’s arms can always go lower, cradling and comforting and caring. 

The service ended with Great is Thy Faithfulness, and as we played, I remembered that on the same day, January 3^rd, six years ago, my father’s funeral ended with the same wonderful hymn. 

Morning by morning new mercies I see. All that we have, we receive by the grace of God. Every breath we take. 

Underneath are the everlasting arms.